


This is What Hurts Me

by madamsledge



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Prose Poem, Rare Pairings, World War II, the last patrol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 14:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamsledge/pseuds/madamsledge
Summary: Just a prose poem from Doc's POV about the death of the only man he ever loved.





	This is What Hurts Me

I was just speaking to you and you wouldn’t listen. I kept saying Jackson, Jackson, Jackson, Jackson. I kept saying it’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right. Look at the flame, Jackson, look at the flame. I need you to hang on.

I needed you to hang on.

I

Needed

You

To

Hang

On

How can you blame a dead man for his own death?

It wasn’t just a first name I wanted to share with you. It wasn’t just touching in the darkness, it wasn’t reductive. It grew. Every time I looked in those dark eyes of yours, I’d feel the closest thing to the urge to laugh I’ve had since before. Eugene Roe and Eugene Jackson-Roe. Two Gene Roes. What a pair.

Not anymore, though, that will never be.

Not anymore, though.

That

Will

Never

Be

You’re never going to have any kind of life now and your last moments were spent choking on your own blood and I was holding you, I was there, I was looking at the pallor of your ruined flesh, I was there, it was me, it was me, I was there. It was me, there, and no one knew. It was me there with you, and no one knew that when my helmet came off, I was as good as praying for a bullet. I looked at Heffron, he looked at Sisk, in comes Sergeant with a crusty, raggedy blanket not good enough to serve as your shroud. I wish I could say you looked like an angel.

That’s what you’re supposed to say, ain’t it?

Dead folks, especially the ones you love, they’re supposed to look like angels, but you just looked like suffering. You looked like wasted youth, you looked like all my dreams lying broken in crumbling ruins that may have once been something great.

Maybe once, I could have let us be something great.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All my fanfiction (a lot of which isn't on ao3) can be found at warmommy.tumblr.com/fanfiction


End file.
